As You Like It (Cast, Doncaster)

• Laurie Sansom, Northern Broadsides 22/06/22

It was a delightful way to spend a weekday afternoon, to get out of the smug British sun and cool in a local theatre- watching a wonderfully northern production of one of the country’s most well-known plays.

The first thing to credit this dreamlike production for is the set, costumes and overall aesthetic feel of the piece. The height of the stage is lined with clothes hangers that're laced with the sort of floral garments you see on a charity shop rack or some vintage stylist’s frame. The 'Arden Forest' is made up of deep mahogany hat racks posing as trees, and a clothes rail entrenched in spangles of costume is at the back of the stage. 

As You Like It is one of Shakespeare’s comedies of disguise; characters transform and develop with a different cloak on their back and the cast, direction and designers clearly celebrated this aspect. They have let their production carry influence from the costumes the play has potential for. 

The piece is like a patchwork of the clothing around the stage, worn by the characters and is deepened further by the textured writing of Shakespeare. As You Like It is definitely woven into the fabric of most people’s literary consciousness and the play’s design makes (literally) elevated reference to this. 

The production has dissolved any remaining gendered boundaries left by Shakespeare and so emerges this charmingly fluid creation, that doesn’t scrimp on the saucy or the self-aware. These themes are reiterated by the dressing of the actors and the stage- clothing is a tool of expression here as much as it is tool of disguise.

Joe Morrow’s Touchstone ignites the hysterics of the production- with their brilliant and embarrassingly self-referential ‘breaking of the fourth wall’ (much to the delight of the teachers of the GCSE school group lining the front rows). They consistently leak out of the Shakespearean manner and linguistic coding; they make lewd quips and complaints to the audience on the state of the production so far- joking about the set, the script and more. Imagine all the camp and timing of a pantomime dame, but executed with all the style and sensitivity of the best Shakespeare productions.

It’s a delight to watch the slightly more serious characters interact with the comedic tour-de-force of Touchstone. Fluidity is much an artistic theme that this production triumphs in many elements- costume, design and thus gender, as mentioned before, but also the handling of what is Northern Broadsides and what is Shakespearean. There is no abrupt breaking out of Shakespeare and into contemporary dialogue- the two are in synergy and both lend to each other’s effectiveness. 

The comedy of the Shakespeare is artful and multi-faceted, whereas the comedy of the modern moments is instant and out-loud. The two blend and mean that Northern Broadsides are able to deliver an accessible Shakespeare- whilst the obvious high skill of the cast bonds the accessibility to deep and meaningful channels of the Bard.

Rosalind and Orlando are perfectly watchable as the hopeless lovers that of course don't know each other yet. Although, EM William's Rosalind would not be half as delightful without Isobel Coward's Celia to keep her grounded in the morals, comedy and turmoil of their mystical and aristocratic world. The two make a great duo- their stamina is applaudable as they never falter in energy or execution. 

It’s been a long time since I have seen Shakespeare stay so true and still become more fun. There's a fully kitted wrestling match, eerily dynamic movement sequences, soothing acoustic folk numbers are performed... and of course there's a four-way joint wedding and May pole celebration to round things off. (Perhaps it is more pantomime than we thought).

This production is ethereal and boisterous, transcendent and self-aware; the delectable and archetypal ambiguities of Shakespearean comedy are executed with charm and to great success. I loved it. 

Hold On Let Go (CAST Doncaster)

• Directed by Annie Rigby, written by Luca Rutherford, Performed by Luca Rutherford and Alex Elliot 16/06/22

A quietly beautiful comment on how we forget

Unfolding Theatre brought a charming show to Cast with Hold on Let Go. It’s a take on how people remember differently, based on how they see the life they’ve lived.

We were greeted on arrival into the second space with citrus squash and the smell of baking bread. I came with my grandma and these two things remind me of her kitchen on a Sunday- which set me up perfectly for the show’s premise.

Luca and Alex flitted through us audience members, starting up conversation about how we used to dance, or how we do dance now. It stirred up laughter, nostalgia and warmth- a perfect and personal beginning.

Alex is 62 and Luca is 31 and they’re in different stages of life, different stages of enthusiasm and different stages of remembering. Luca is an agile young woman kitted in gym wear and climbing up and around their set like it’s a playground frame. Alex is in shirt and chinos, dressed for reflection not moving through.

Luca is preoccupied by the present, and worried existentially about how she must look when life passes her accidentally- she forgets. Alex has realised he won’t remember and inside savours what he can, as Luca draws out stories of his Catalonian mother Margarita from him.

This philosophical chit chat is held down by Alex’s mission to show us how to bake the perfect sourdough. He kneads the dough as Luca kneads his brain, bursting bubbles of forgetfulness and bonding memory and flour.

The table in the centre, the kitchen surface, is moved and flipped around, turned upside down and lifted as Luca climbs it, trying to reach a summit- the point where she remembers. Alex only climbs it halfway up; their desire to reach remembering are of different force.

The best parts of this production are the stories, the home-truths and scraps of heartfelt memory that the performers hold. It ties together the atmosphere the audience exist in, and the homely set. The cupboards on stage are lined with tins- to Alex these tins are his late mother’s precious tinned food that she would save for guests, but never use. They are symbols of the life he lived. To Luca, these tins are what orbit her when she floats in a black hole when she can’t remember something in conversation- they are abstracted. To Alex, they show what he remembers and to Luca they show what she forgets. 

Her moments of existentialism are shown onstage by her climbing into or up the table under a single spotlight and talking into a microphone. Her voice surrounds us and the aesthetic is effective, but the touching moments are lost in the writing’s attempt at philosophical wonder. It is a performance that is at its strongest when grounded.

The play finishes with us all sharing the warm (actually very hot) bread Alex has baked us in his previous show. It is a lovely moment in a lovely play. It is one that reminds us that it is okay to forget detail, but important to remember how we felt, and I will remember feeling a calm happiness when watching this performance at Cast. 

Full English (CAST Doncaster)

•  Natalie Davies, 31/05/22

Seeing plays in Cast’s second space is one of the best ways to spend an evening. This particular evening, Bradford had just been announced as the City of Culture for 2025, so Natalie Davies’ story of growing up in the multi-cultural hotspot seemed very fitting.

The stage was split between the story of Natalie and her grandma Catherine. Natalie had a microphone on a stand, projecting an insightful, punchy tale of growing up with Pakistani, Bangladesh and white British heritage. The other half of the stage belongs to her Cath. The actress is young, but plays her at all stages: teenager courting, new bride, deserted mother and a dementia patient in a care home.

The story starts at the outskirts of Bradford in the 60s as Cath meets and falls for Sahil, a Pakistani boy. They spend their Sunday nights at the markets and the cinemas of the city and she is seduced by the culture, colour and ultimate acceptance of the place. Sahil's character provides some comedic relief with his naivety and devotion. They have children, marry in their flat's living room without family approval and their story of love and desertion unravels. 

Whilst the piece is funny and warm, it speaks of the bitter hatred and judgement faced by Cathy, her husband and the city on a whole. Natalie delivers a moving but devastating monologue of her own experience of the race riots as a pre-teen- choosing the white side as she was crushed by pressure and just wanted to be safe. Images are projected on the screen behind; a full english breakfast decorated with jubilee memorabilia stands poignant as the backdrop for the characters' struggles with poverty, violence and eviction.

The cosy, homely set up is interjected by sharp, witty dialogue and the two elements juxtapose to paint the picture of growing up mixed race and female in working class Yorkshire. We watch grandma Cath to be a powerhouse of love and value; she doesn’t back down in the face of antagonism, betrayal and heartbreak. There are lessons to be learnt from her today as we watch how cultures clash against British classism: how resilience is paramount.

I felt nurtured by the story and moved by the performances. It is a touring production so catch it if you can.

Jarvis Cocker in Conversation: Good Pop, Bad Pop (Crucible Theatre)

•  30/05/22

It was a night of homecoming for Sheffield’s Mr Cocker. Arriving on the Crucible stage, armed with a full bin liner and framed by those big specs, he presented a night of nostalgia, humour and love for the city that made him great.

There to talk about his latest book, Good Pop, Bad Pop, Jarvis was being interviewed to a sold-out crowd who couldn’t be happier to have him home in Sheffield. The book is a sort of inventory- he raided his loft in his East London apartment in lockdown, a raid he hadn’t undertook since he moved in the 80s. He goes through many an item, describing and decoding its significance to him.

The bin bag of props would tell the irreverent and quintessentially working-class birthing of Pulp. From a second-hand exercise book sketching out the Pulp uniform and manifesto, to a matchbox containing the last remnants of original Imperial Leather soap, the seemingly random assortment shows Jarvis’ passion for what Pulp would and did become; he drew a vision at 15 and it, in all its weird glory, came true.

His songs tell of the beautiful comedy in the ordinary and that’s exactly what the night was. He spoke of Sheffield’s resilience in the age of Thatcher, the nightlife that educated him musically, and the firm devotion of the women that raised him. He highlighted the whimsy and shadowed the bleak- his lyrical storytelling, and his Yorkshire drawl juxtaposing like the themes in his art.

The Q&A section at the end of the talk turned into a superfan session, as to be expected from his hometown. People of all sorts were bursting with (sometimes stalker-like) confessions of true fans. Despite Jarvis looking uncomfortable at times (which added hilarity), it was lovely to see such an enthusiastic crowd, all happy to be there in times where we’ve been kept apart.

It was a great night, the crowd was happy and our speaker was happy. His mum was there and he showed photos she wouldn’t have seen. It proved the Crucible’s power as a theatre- the power to harness delicate intimacies and large jokes and themes with great success. I’m proud to be a part of it, however small that part is. 

Straight Line Crazy (National Theatre Live stream @ Savoy cinemas)

• David Hare, Nicholas Hynter, 26/05/22

David Hare has the magical ability to weave a passionate feat of story out of the most specific and dense social cases. Straight Line Crazy takes Caro’s epic biography of NY’s Robert Moses, The Power Broker and turns it into triumphant dramatic storytelling.

Moses is the city’s most celebrated, yet most controversial urban planner, mapping out his ideal state: miles of roads connecting the natural scape of Long Island to Manhattan’s concrete jungle, and then connecting its concrete to its concrete. His intentions are exposed in the paradox between his achievement and infamy; Ralph Fiennes is blistering as the fiercely stubborn, yet driven Moses.

His racist motivations are exposed by the ever victorious middle class protestors, they speak for others, speak over others and are listened to over those Others. Regardless, we finally watch Fiennes’ Moses crumble from a tower to a slum of a man. 

The backbone of the play is female: a spine that is as sensitive as it is strong. Siobhan Cullen stuns as Finnuala Connell; she is the woman he might listen to. She stands in opposition to architectural journalist and Moses critic Jane Jacobs (Helen Schlesinger) who is ignored and triggers his demise. Both women narrate our tale, orbiting the dilemma of Moses: what he built and what was demolished in his path.

The play informs and it evokes. Hare’s writing and Hynter’s direction blend to create a striking dramatic creation; it’s one that exposes where integrity, greed and respect intercept and corrode each other. Moses’ roads were not means of connection, but means of segregation. They spider on the map that carpets the stage floor, but instead look like cracks in breaking concrete. Which they were: they broke up New York's people and its place. 

A privilege to watch and a play born for the Olivier stage.